Chapter 5
In all his years of touring with the band, Obie had never seen the guys act like spoiled little rock stars like they were being right now. Standing behind the soundboard, Obie had his arms crossed over his chest as he observed the guys on stage yelling at one crew member after another for simple, minor things. This was not how Bon Jovi did things, practically everyone in the business knew that. If you were lucky enough to be part of the Bon Jovi crew, you would be treated with respect. Yes, the work was hard, but the pay more than made up for that.
Obie knew the reason why the 5 men before him were acting the way they were. They were missing their families, and Father’s Day being a little over 24 hours away wasn’t helping their moods one bit. Closing his eyes, Obie sent up a silent plea. Please let me survive this show!
“Are you fucking sleeping over there?” bellowed an angry frontman into his microphone. Obie just offered him the Jersey salute while muttering under his breath.
“Give me strength."
John Sr had been standing on the floor of the arena towards the back silently watching his boys as they barked one order after another to the crew. Hang in there just a little longer, guys. The patriarch whispered as he walked towards the soundboard.
Pacing back and forth across the stage, Jon could not understand why all of a sudden he was surrounded by a bunch of incompetent idiots who couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag. Rubbing his hands over his face Jon just kept shaking his head I could be back in my hotel room. Lifting his eyes to Richie, Jon corrected himself. Okay, I could be back in our room drinking the ache away that has settled in my chest since leaving my family almost 6 weeks ago. Better yet, I could be home with my family like millions of other dads will be doing tomorrow, enjoying the day surrounded by the people that love me, Jon thought.
Finally having enough, Tico threw his drum sticks down, his face red with anger. "This is bullshit," muttered the normally even tempered Cuban as he stood up from his seat, giving his roadie an angry look. "Fix it!" he hissed before stalking off stage with David and Hugh following close behind.
Richie handed his beloved guitar over to Lou, his personal roadie. "Take care of her." With a curt nod of understanding, Lou cradled the guitar to his chest like it was a newborn as he left the stage.
Crossing the stage, Richie plopped himself down next to Jon, who was sitting on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling in front of him with his hands clasped together in his lap, staring at the empty seats in front of him. "Remind me again why we keep doing this year after year?" Blowing out a breath, Jon ran his hand through his sandy hair. "Shit, Richie we should be home with our families spending our days at the beach with the kids and our nights wrapped around our wives. Not thousands of miles away from them!"
Slapping his arm over Jon’s shoulder, Richie shook his head in agreement. "I hear ya, man."
Yeah sure, back when they had first started out they lived for the time they were onstage, girls screaming, throwing their panties at them, fans camping out in front of the hotel they were staying at. Sure it still happened today, but the days of partying all night and excessive women were over, they had lived through it. They were now grown men, married with families of their own and that’s exactly how they wanted it.
For some strange reason, this tour had them more homesick than usual. It was the long lonely nights when they returned to their hotel room or the plane heading to another city that was slowly killing them. No matter how homesick or lonely they felt every night when they hit that stage, they gave their fans nothing less than 110 %. Not one diehard fan could argue with that. Jon and Richie just sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, but still being a comfort for the other.
Behind them, the crew was working at a fast pace to rectify the problems concerning the equipment before the show. More than an hour, later the band was back up and running through soundcheck one more time, finally satisfied that the crew had solved the problems. While listening to the do the guys do one helluva rendition of "Hotel California", John Sr had slowly made his way over to Obie. “They should throw that into the show," he yelled in Obie’s ear. Nodding in agreement, Obie continued setting up levels and such while bouncing his head to the beat of Tico’s drums.
Feeling his phone vibrate on his hip with an incoming text, John Sr raised it up so he could read the message being careful that the guys didn’t see him. Upon reading the text, a huge smile appeared on his face . Turning the phone around so Obie could read it, Obie gave a thumbs up. Just a few simple words had both men feeling a little bit of relief.
Joanne: We are at the Arena!
